Swing, Baby, Swing Cowboy Bebop: Spike Spiegel
by decemberxrain
Summary: Eve Ramsey was a flopped cop from Mars. But after joining the Bebop crew, her life will never be the same. Bounties and Poverty and Excitement, oh my! And how will her relationship with Spike Spiegel blossom as she tries to save him from his dark past?
1. What's your Name?

I couldn't quite feel the gas pedal beneath my toes and so I pushed harder. With a sudden jerk of the wheel, the car fishtailed before suddenly swerving to the right. I was thrown from my seat momentarily when the car hit the sidewalk and somehow managed to climb up. I felt the blowout happen as soon as all four wheels returned to the cement but my focus was not on such things. I drove forward. My knuckles turned white as snow and I braced myself for the impact against the stairs. I felt the front lurch and another blowout, this time in the back right wheel. I pressed the gas until it refused to budge any longer just as the car hit the first step of the cement stairs. The car managed to wrestle its way up the flight of steps. It was then that I stomped my foot down upon the brake. The tires squealed and whined as if they had been put through unimaginable pain. This, I'm sure, would've been the case if tires could feel pain. I reached onto the passenger seat to retrieve my switchblade that my grandfather had secretly given me. I felt the sweat begin to drip down my forehead. The gravity of the actions I was about to commit began to weigh down upon me. I could die. Just as this thought crossed my mind, I heard the crash of glass from above. Startled, I gripped the steering wheel and gazed at the cathedral in front of me. From the largest and most beautiful stained glass window fell shards of broken glass and a man.

"Holy shit…" I pounded down on the gas pedal and the car flew forward, leaving streaks of black in my wake. The car leapt up as it hit the shorter flight of steps. I felt the seatbelt scrape against my neck painfully as I landed and flew further forward. Slamming on the brakes, I swung the car to evade the church wall. Just as the car came to rest a mere 10 ft from the wall, the man crashed onto the hood of the car, completely shattering the windshield and causing me to let out a tremendous scream. Of course, this was my intention in nearly crashing the car into the cathedral but I hadn't expected the suddenness. Before long, I regained my composure and flew out of the car. I lifted the man's blood-matted head in my hands ever so gently and placed two fingers on top of his jugular vein. A slight pulse.

I stared down at the man and let out a breath I didn't know I had been holding in. Rummaging through the pockets of his bloody trench coat, I pulled out what looked like a communication device. I pressed the largest button on the side, assuming it was similar to the obsolete walkie-talkies I was used to. A menu appeared. "Video Only", "Audio Only", or "Video and Audio". I selected the "video and audio" option. A large man appeared on the screen. "Spike, where are you!" he shouted at me. I was silent. I wasn't quite sure what to say. He gave me a strange look as if I had 3 heads. "Umm…" I stuttered out, "Your friend. He's hurt pretty badly. I've got him here with me but…" I trailed off and turned the communicator to show the man that was currently unconscious on the hood of the car. "God damn it!" I heard the man shout. "I'll be right there. Don't move." I nodded in agreement and sighed as I hung up the call. I climbed up next to the unconscious young man and sat there, holding his left hand in my own. I tossed it over and over in my palms and traced his veins with my fingers before whispering to him. "You've got one hell of a guardian angel."

The rust-colored door slid to my left as I entered the ship. I held a white box close to my chest as I carefully stepped over the threshold. Casually, I meandered down the dark hallway towards the light coming from the living area. I curiously poked my head inside the rooms along the dirty barren walls of the Bebop. A bedroom. Another bedroom. A small restroom. A greenhouse room filled to the brim with bonsai plants and the large man on the communicator sitting on a stool, intently pruning the little trees. "Hi, Jet. How are the trees coming along?" He turned and smiled sadly at me. "Maybe I should give up. I'm just butchering them anyway." A short giggle escaped my lips. "Good luck." I left him to wallow in his bonsai-filled sorrow. I noted the approach of a furious looking Faye Valentine, storming down the hallway. "Hi there, Faye. How's he doing?" I nervously drew back from her for fear that she would lash out and slap me. "I quit. You take care of him now," she growled at me. She slowly stalked down the hall from whence I came.

At the entrance to the living area I saw what looked like a mummy lying across that couch staring blankly at a card in his hand. A torn pillow sat on his stomach and the feathers littered the floor. Across his body were scattered 52 playing cards. I leaned against the doorframe and chuckled. "Already causing chaos, are we?" He stiffly turned to look at me. Surely, he was confused at the sight of a strange blonde woman that he had never before seen. However, his eyes showed no sign of confusion or inquiry. They were blank and emotionless. I hadn't expected them to be so. Whilst he was unconscious, I imagined his eyes as bright, cheery pools of amber or perhaps even forest green. Instead, I received a blank look from empty, almost sorrowful chocolate orbs. I reached the couch on which he was draped. I began speaking to him, trying to keep away any awkward silences to follow. "I figured Faye would give up sooner or later. What'd you say to get her so mad?" Slowly, he raised one finger and flexed it back and forth in a beckoning motion. I leaned forward and held my curly blonde locks back behind my ear. From beneath his bandages, I could hear him groan out, "Who are you?" I grinned at his inquiry. "My name's Eve. Eve Ramsey. You're…Spike, right?" I had to think on his name since I've only heard it in passing. I heard him mumble an incoherent word and smiled. "Hang on just a second. I can barely understand you." I loosened the bandages that constricted his lips and he sighed in relief.

"Spiegel." He said shortly. "Spike Spiegel." My smile widened. "That's a good name," I began, "I brought you something. I hope you like it. I made it myself." I opened the white cardboard box I carried with me and revealed its contents like an oyster revealing its pearl. Inside was a cake that, at one point, must've looked quite pretty but the icing shifted and the strawberries fell from their decorative sugar pedestals. I flushed at the sight of it. "Oh, it must look ridiculous right now but I'm pretty sure it tastes good. At least, I hope it does." I noticed the way he stared inside the box, a slight air of angst about him. My shoulders dropped in disappointment. "You're not a big fan of sweets, are you?"

For the first time he stared into my eyes and, with a sympathetic half-smile, said, "Sorry, but not particularly." I shrugged and sighed. "I knew I should've made something else. Well, I'm sure Jet and Faye will eat it. They'll eat anything, you know –" I stopped. I must've been irritating him with my chatter. A moment passed as I awkwardly avoided Spike's gaze. Suddenly, he spoke. "What's wrong? You were on a roll a second ago." I looked up, surprised. "Well, I just though that I was annoying you." He smirked haughtily at my response. "You're certainly not as bad as that other woman." By "that other woman" I assume he meant Faye. Perhaps those two didn't get along well but I decided not to press further. All I could do was offer up a confused smile before Jet's deep and commanding voice echoed from behind me.

"That dog isn't pestering you, is he, Eve?" he smirked and sauntered towards us. I had half a mind to look around for Ein at the mention of a "dog" but I soon realized what he meant. I politely shook my head and grinned. "No, if anything, I'm pestering him." I gestured toward the kitchen and tilted my head in inquiry. "Would you like some coffee or something, Jet?" He sighed as he dropped onto the opposite couch then smiled at me. "If you're headed that way, that'd be great. Thanks, Eve." I heard Spike beside me moan out, "Coffee sounds great right about now. Could you –?" I interrupted him with a grin and a ruffle of his hair. "I'll get you some water."

…

I watched her walk into the kitchen. I narrowed my eyes at her back and groaned loudly, hoping she would hear it. If she did though, she ignored me. I leaned my head back onto the arm of the gaudy orange couch that Jet bought long before we met. "What a pain in the ass…" I mumbled under my breath. Women were nothing but trouble. With how much Jet complained about Faye being here, I would've thought he learned his lesson. I turned to look at him across the table. My neck ached and my head throbbed but I spoke anyway.

"Who the hell was that?" I shot out in an irritated tone. Jet stared at me with an abashed expression. "Eve Ramsey. Weren't you listening?" I sighed. "I know her name, Jet. Who is she?" He chuckled at my exasperation. "She's the woman that saved your life, Spike. I suggest you be a little more grateful to her." It was my turn to be taken aback. "That woman saved me? She doesn't look like she's capable of saving anything." Jet sneered. "Regardless of what she looks like she could do, Spike, she trashed her car to save you. If you had fallen on that concrete instead of her car hood, the cops would've been cleaning up a dead body." I huffed and turned away. 'This is between him and me. What the hell did she think she was doing? I didn't need any help.' I thought. I would've been just fine without her help. Besides, it's not as if crashing into metal is much better than crashing into concrete. She probably did more harm than good.

"Just give her a chance, Spike." I felt a smirk creep onto my lips. "Yeah, whatever. You two are cute together, Jet. Plan on sweeping her off her feet?" I attempted to tuck my hands behind my head but in my condition, it was impossible. The bandages and pain restricted my movement making me give up with a heavy sigh. Jet's eyes widened and his pale cheeks turned a cherry red before he cleared his throat. "She's not my type, Spike. She's cute but I'd prefer a girl that wasn't over 10 years younger than me." I chuckled and made a motion with my shoulders that was meant to resemble a shrug but probably looked more like I was uncomfortable. "Well, it's acceptable on some planets, I'm sure. Don't worry, buddy. I support you." I winked at him just as Eve returned to the room with 2 mugs of steaming coffee and a glass of water with a straw protruding from the rim. I sighed. 'Here we go again.'

…

I tried to ignore the statements about me that I could hear being whispered from the living room. With a cheery smile, I handed Jet his coffee – black, just the way he liked it. I made myself comfortable in the area between the table and the couch on which Spike was reclined. "I got you a straw since you shouldn't be moving just yet." I explained to Spike at his confounding gaze. I had a strange feeling that this would be the first time Spike's had any liquid other than liquor or coffee slide down his throat since his teenage years. "Remind me again why I can't have any coffee?" he griped. "Because everyone needs to stay properly hydrated. Especially you, little invalid." I winked at him playfully causing him to sink further into the couch, if that was possible. He grimaced at the water glass as I brought the straw to his lips. I huffed in vexation. "Oh, don't be such a baby." He still refused. I pinched his nose shut between my slender index finger and my thumb and waited until he could hold his breath no longer. He gasped for air. In this I saw my opportunity to shove the straw between his lips. He glared at me fiercely to which I simply grinned. After having sipped half the water, I removed the straw from Spike's mouth and placed the glass on the table. "Was that so hard?"

"Women like you are why I think women are trouble." He uttered. I shrugged and shot back, "Yes and men like you are the reason why women have to be so troublesome." For the first time since I came, he closed his eyes and smiled. "Not bad, Eve Ramsey. Not bad at all." He craned his neck to look directly at me. I smiled sweetly. I suppose, in that moment, we had earned each other's respect. It was a nice feeling. "Don't try to get out of this, Spike Spiegel." I began, "You still have to drink to rest of this water." He looked away and chuckled to himself. "Damn…"


	2. Hip Hop, Cop Flop!

The blues. Sad, yet sweet. Lonesome yet they brought people together. The pleasant whining of a harmonica has subsided nearly 20 minutes ago. I had stepped outside to inhale a large gulp of fresh city air. The dank, smoky oxygen inside the bar had nearly choked me after being engulfed in it for an hour. I was waiting, my gun on my hip, the holster loose and ready for action. I was hunting bounties today, a job which the police department only reserved for those who were completely unfit to respond to calls and file paperwork. There was such a low chance of encountering a bounty in such a large city that it was something of a joke to be sent out. They called it "being stuck in Limbo" and I was there. Why was it Limbo? Because bounty duty was a sign that your job was spiraling downwards. It was the step before your career was flushed down the giant political toilet. I heaved a sigh and returned to the crowd inside. I hated crowds.

I looked up as I dodged a young brunette woman who attempted to shove past me. My eyes were immediately drawn to the face of a stark, tan man. His nose was large and took up most of his face. His hair was a silvery gray that contrasted well with his dark brown orbs. His face was wrinkled and rigid and strong. I stared for a moment before a sudden blast of recognition seemed to plow me over. My bounty! His name was some sort of animal. Monkey? Gazelle? Rhino? I shook my head and tore the paper with his information on it from my pocket. Giraffe! Of course! When I looked up, his back was disappearing around a corner quickly. I cursed beneath my breath and ripped my way out of the bar and around the back alley. I watched as he boarded a taxi that followed one holding a strangely limp and scraggly man in a wheelchair and a young handsome little boy who had performed the lovely harmonica tune I had listened intently to. I had to follow.

I leapt inside the police ship that had been lent to me quite hesitantly. Not too long ago I had wrecked a police car while attempting to arrest members of an underground organization. Instead, I got a half-dead body on my hood, 2 blowouts, and shot brake pads. It was, in fact, the instance that had begun my life in Limbo. Quick as a flash and with eyes like a hawk, I tracked the taxi carrying my ticket out of Limbo. I arrived at a hotel and landed stealthily upon the roof. When I leaned over the edge, I merely saw the taxi driving away. Giraffe had to be inside this hotel. I took a few moments to prepare myself for the arrest. Gun, locked and loaded? Check. Pepper spray? Check. Mace? Check. Steel-toe boots? Also, check. I once more leaned over the ledge. Satisfied, I began a dash down the hotel floors to find Giraffe. However, as I reached the door that led from the rooftop to the stairway, I heard a loud crash. Something reminiscent of broken glass. As if a large boulder had been thrown through a window.

I raced to the ledge again to find Giraffe plummeting towards the ground. A curse word escaped my lips as I watched him fall. Suddenly, a scuffed, rusted, faded pink ship caught Giraffe's falling body. Swordfish II was scrawled on the side. It flew away to a nearby rooftop. I knew that ship. An image of the Bebop and the mummy upon the couch flashed through my mind. An even louder and filthier curse sprang from my lips like fire. Not a Cowboy! I was doomed. As I boarded the ship and flew towards the rooftop, I could hear the jeers and taunts that would surely come my way once word of this reached the office. They'll make jokes about how a bounty hunter can do a police officer's job. How I can't even measure up to an untrained vigilante. How I'm even more worthless than a Cowboy. I could picture myself, swirling round and round in a toilet and Spike Spiegel flushing the toilet further until I was consumed by the drain. I would be fired before the week was out. I knew it. But even worse, everyone else knew it too.

The office was alive with a low hum of activity. Monitors and computers buzzed while the clack-clack-clacking of keyboards provided a monotonous percussion of noise. As I entered, much of the activity seemed to cease and all eyes peered over their monitors at me. Though I couldn't see half of their faces, I knew every one of them was smirking or giggling. A lively murmur of whispers, no doubt about my exploits today or lack thereof, started up as I turned to face my computer screen. Something wasn't right. A man in a wheelchair and a child couldn't just throw a man from a window. He was shot. I remember the attending officers grumbling that phrase before I was shooed away as if I were the grim reaper himself. I scanned over articles concerning Giraffe. Soon enough, the name Zebra began appearing as well. They were partners it said. Zebra, however, had gone missing after a fallout between the two. He only recently resurfaced accompanied by the young boy who makes magic with a harmonica. That's certainly out of the ordinary. An article at the bottom of the screen almost escaped unnoticed by me but I caught sight of it before it was too late. A newspaper clipping was the bulk of the article. It featured the boy shaking hands with many different, important-looking people and a man in a wheelchair behind him. Though it was a shot of the back of his head, I immediately recognized that the man wasn't Zebra by any means. Panic building, I glanced at the issue date and gasped. Throwing my arms into the air and jumping up and down, I shouted happily. "I knew it! I knew it!" The activity stopped once more this time to gawk at my joy. I ran out of the office and climbed into the ship. I knew that kid was too good to be true.

I retraced my steps from the hotel to the bar. As my confidence began to wane, I noticed a large mass of cloth in the middle of the road down which the taxis drove toward the hotel. With a squinted eye, I realized just what it was. Quickly, I ran over, my officer instincts kicking in, and kneeled next to the body. It was cold as ice. A gunshot to the temple and this much blood? He was dead long before I arrived. I searched his personal effects, pulling from his jacket pocket a wallet containing his I.D. He was a taxi cab driver. A taxi driver without a taxi? My intuition started to kick in. That kid HAD to be behind this. I reported the death as I powered my way down the road towards the edge of town. What on earth was I getting into? At top speed, the ship gained on the cab that was chugging down the road ahead. Once more, however, I set my eyes upon the Swordfish II dead ahead. Spike Spiegel was always 2 steps ahead of me. He began to fire, piercing the hood and causing it to swerve uncontrollably.

Finally, the taxi crashed, a blaze shooting up from the wreckage, which made for a picturesque background. The child stood and walked forward, unharmed. I watched as Spike dismounted his ship and aimed his large pistol at the child who shot wildly at Spike. My gun was revoked when I returned to the office. I had no means of defense. Was I an idiot? What could I do? Suddenly, an idea struck. "It's insane," I mumbled. "But it'll have to work." I jerked the axis lever forward and slammed onto the gas. I sped forward and down, bracing for the impact. A rumble and then a blast echoed in my ears and rattled my brain. I soared forward, out of my seat and upside down as the windshield shattered into millions of shards and the ship flipped multiple times. A pain surged through my head and made a crescendo on my right temple. Hot liquid oozed down my cheeks and from my nose. This was, quite possibly, the worst idea I'd ever had. I had no time to ponder this thought however. The world became fuzzy and dark. Momentarily, I drifted away.

I awoke to the sound of a scream. Not a childlike one either. The shout and groans of an old man. Some ancient creature about to die. I began my crawl from the shrapnel of the ship and shimmied my way out somewhat unharmed. I stared as Spike sarcastically shot at the harmonica the boy held so dearly. He turned to me, a mangled and dirty and bloody mess, and smiled. "You're one hell of a crazy woman, ya know that?" His tone was taunting yet halfway concerned. I flashed him half a grin. "Well, I do what I can. It's a shame my 'sacrifice' was in vain." I chuckled and cast my eyes to the crumpled body on the ground. Spike shrugged as if forgetting the world's worries. "Maybe you should think things through before going on suicide missions." I let out a great and hearty laugh. "You're one to talk, aren't you?"


End file.
